


Infinite Wishes

by Writer_Rabbit



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. Compliant, Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. Spoilers, Ambiguous/Open Ending, Angst and Feels, Angst and Humor, Angst and Romance, Canon Compliant, Canonical Character Death, Cuddling & Snuggling, Episode: s5e22 The End, Established Phil Coulson/Melinda May, Established Relationship, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Implied Sexual Content, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Melinda May Feels, Mild Hurt/Comfort, My First Work in This Fandom, POV Phil Coulson, Phil Coulson & Melinda May Friendship, Possible Character Death, Pre-Relationship, Protective Melinda May, Protective Phil Coulson, Sad and Sweet, Season/Series 05, Tahiti (Agents of SHIELD), Whipped Phil Coulson
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-07
Updated: 2021-03-07
Packaged: 2021-03-13 18:47:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,747
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29905473
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Writer_Rabbit/pseuds/Writer_Rabbit
Summary: He couldn’t for the life of him remember what he had done to make her laugh that first time, and wasn’t that fitting? Here he was, lying on what was quite possibly going to be his deathbed, and he couldn’t remember for the life of him what he had done to make her laugh.
Relationships: Phil Coulson/Melinda May
Comments: 5
Kudos: 24





	Infinite Wishes

If a genie granted him infinite wishes, his first selfish wish after taking care of the important stuff—like world peace, equitable distribution of resources, a dartboard in the shape of Ward’s face for Daisy, and reliable medical care everywhere—would be to remember what he had said years ago, the first time he had made May laugh.

He couldn’t remember the joke or the quip he had made, but it must have been dry and clever and maybe a little scathing. May had thrown her head back, showing the creamy skin of her neck that his lips were suddenly aching to touch. Eyes squeezed shut, something of a unique mix between a snigger—suppressed and mostly to herself—and a guffaw—wholehearted and sudden—escaped her mouth, and he found himself entranced.

When she looked at him a moment later, the slightest and cutest blush dusting her cheeks—a physical response from having laughed so hard or an emotional one out of embarrassment, he wasn’t sure—her eyes  _ danced _ . They were always alive, never dull, but right then… It was different. Right then,  _ le joie de vivre _ shimmered in her eyes.

Vibrant.

That was the word he was looking for.

He had smiled at her then, he was fairly certain. Maybe he had grinned. But this he did know: next, the corners of her lips quirked up and the corners of her eyes softened. She was looking at him, and she was looking at him with  _ that _ expression—his hands had gone numb. Oh, gosh, had his jaw fallen open? Please, God, please let it not have been so.

Then she tossed her hair over her shoulder, reestablished the firm set of her mouth and hard look in her eyes, and went back to business as usual. But him? His heart had been pounding away. He had probably sat there like a rock or a fool—a foolishly lovestruck rock! that was a thing, right?—for a moment or two or three, simply trying to regather his wits. He had never made May laugh before. He had never  _ heard  _ May laugh before. Actually, scratch that— evidently, he had never heard anyone laugh before, for there was only one conclusion to draw after hearing that piece of Heaven: everybody else was doing it wrong.

When he had finally started functioning again, his first intelligible thought was,  _ I need to hear it again. _

He had tried to make another joke or quip, but she had only given him an unimpressed arched eyebrow. Fine, he could accept that it wouldn’t happen often, but he did swear to himself: “I will make May laugh again.”

And he did. It wasn’t for another few months but it happened, and he had never felt so grateful for his birth. He had crossed “make May laugh again” off of his to-do list, but right afterwards he felt… Empty, sort of. A little adrift maybe? So he had again sworn to himself: “I will make May laugh a third time.”

And he did.

And he crossed it off his to-do list.

And he swore, “I will make May laugh again.”

Thus did his life continue. Training, catching bad guys, hanging out with May, watching Star Wars, making May laugh, re-watching Star Wars, rising in the ranks of S.H.I.E.L.D. with May, training under Fury, challenging himself to find new ways to make May laugh, gathering intel on Hydra, cataloguing the different smiles May had… 

There was just a lot of May in his life.

And honestly? He was very, very okay with that.

It wasn’t until the Chitauri and Loki that he realised renewing his promise every time meant he could not die truly fulfilled unless he had just made May laugh seconds before. He was almost—a very big almost—glad that it had been months since she had left the field for administration, months since he had heard her laugh, because he didn’t want to do that to her, make her laugh then break her heart in the span of a minute.

He couldn’t say he had ever experienced it for himself, but he couldn’t imagine that having the person who made you laugh drop dead while you were still smiling would be a nice attachment to the memory.

He made it work. After coming back from the dead and all that, he amended his recurring promise to “I will make May smile again”. 

And he did.

A few more cycles of that promise—too few—found him lying in Tahiti, May toiling at his side, caring for him in his final moments. He was trying to think of a way to make her crack a smile, but even he couldn’t think of something for this situation. Short of straight-up asking her to smile for him, anyway, which he was sure she would do. She would do anything for him.

Heavens, what had he done to deserve her?

“May?” he said, his voice coming out weaker than he had ever heard it before.

“You shouldn’t be speaking,” she scolded, dabbing at his forehead with a washcloth. “Conserve your energy, Phil.”

“Lie down with me,” he said. “When was the last time we did some post-coital cuddling?”

May levelled him with a flat look. “You really want ‘post-coital cuddling’ to be your last words?”

“Why not?” he said. “There are worse ones, like ‘refrigerator’, or ‘bathroom’, or ‘toilet’, or—” He paused. “Hmm, maybe listing them all isn’t the best strategy to not make them my last words.”

Her lips twitched as she turned away from him, and while it wasn’t a smile, it reminded him of all those years ago… The first time he made her laugh.

“May?” he called again before she left the room to get him pain relief meds or water or some other unimportant thing.

Not turning around, she shook her head. “Phil, I swear to—”

“How did I make you laugh?”

She whirled around. “What?”

“The first time, I mean,” he said. “What did I say or do that made you laugh?”

“I don’t remember,” she said. “At some point, you making me laugh just became a regular thing. I can’t pick out one time over any other.”

“’Cause I was thinking, you know, what if a genie gave me infinite wishes?” he said, and he was pleasantly surprised when he noticed his story was making her subconsciously walk back to him. “And I decided my first selfish wish would be to remember what I said or did that made you laugh that first time.”

“What about making sure Hydra is really gone and for good?” she asked.

“That would be a  _ selfless _ wish,” he answered. “Maybe right after the global end of hunger.”

She hummed and started to turn back away. Desperately, he called, “What about you?”  She tossed him a quizzical look over her shoulder, and he clarified, “What would your first selfish wish be, given an infinite amount of genie wishes?”

She shrugged, but started drifting back to his bedside. “A dartboard for Daisy in the shape of Ward’s face.”

“Okay, your first selfish wish for  _ you _ ,” he said, a grin tugging at his lips.

She scrutinised him, scrunching her nose a little in that way he loved. “You really have to ask, Phil?” she said.

He raised his arms, shaky as they were, in a surrendering gesture. “Hey, a gentleman never assumes.”

“I would wish that you were okay,” she said.

The easygoing grin fell off his face.  _ Shoot. _ “May…”

“That you would survive this,” she soldiered on. “Heal. Live a long, happy life.  _ With me. _ That we would grow old together and die peacefully in each other’s arms. That you weren’t leaving me now.”

Tears glimmered in her eyes, and his heart wrenched so forcefully he almost lost his breath. How could the universe be so cruel to her? How could it tear them apart like this? How could it give her—the most amazing, selfless, beautiful woman he had ever met—a tragedy’s ending?

_ No,  _ a voice whispered in his head.  _ You will not leave her a tragedy. _

“Hey, now,” he said softly, inching his hand in her direction on the mattress. “The way I see it, you’re the one who’s so eager to leave  _ me _ . Seriously, May, I never would have pegged you as the type to smash and dash.”

An abrupt snicker burst past her lips, and he smiled triumphantly. “Pump and dump,” he continued. “Nail it and bail it. Screw and shoo. Toot it and boot it—”

“Stop it, Phil,” she laughed, and he only did because her wide grin took his breath away. She smiled down at him, and so much love flushed through his chest that he found the energy to snatch her hand, idle at her side, and pull her into bed beside him.

“Phil!” she exclaimed, laughing all over again.

He wrapped his arms around her waist and smiled softly. “Mhmm?”

She returned the expression, looking all the world like an angel. “You’re an idiot.”

“Oh, undeniably,” he agreed, “but I’m an idiot who’s in love with you, so… You’re not getting rid of me.”

The glowing in her face dimmed as her smile turned tearful, and he swallowed. Okay. Wrong thing to say. Definitely an idiot.

He slid one hand up her side to brush her cheek with his thumb. “There’s no genie with infinite wishes,” he whispered.

“I know that,” she snapped. Her voice had next to no sting, though, any irritation negated by the quiver of her lips and sheen in her eyes.

“I can’t and probably won’t remember what I said to make you laugh,” he continued. “I can’t see how I’ll survive this. I probably won’t.”

“I know that,” she repeated, quieter, softer, her voice breaking near the end.

“I don’t even know what my last words will be,” he said. “But I do know what I want to be  _ doing _ in my last moments. I want to be holding you.”

She sobbed, pushing her face into his chest and crying for all she was worth. The hand with which he had been stroking her cheek, he gently moved to the back of her head, cradling her to him. She started to cry even louder.

“So please, stay with me,” he said. “Don’t worry about pampering me or preparing me or whatever it is. Just stay here in my arms, stay with me.”

And she did.

**Author's Note:**

> WHOOPS, this was supposed to be a fluffy ficlet wherein Coulson realises he loves May because her laugh makes him soft. But then the ending seemed incomplete to me, so I added a sentence or two, and then some more, and then, well!
> 
> Please let me know what you think down below, and feel free to drop any requests! (No promises if/when I’ll get to them, but I’m always open to them!) Thank you so much for reading, and I hope you enjoyed it. <3


End file.
